


Bad Dreams

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Cliche/Trope Requests [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baz Wasn't Kidnapped, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Visiting Didn't Happen, eight year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: In a state of nightmare induced sleep deprivation, Simon tries a new spell, and it leads to unexpected, terrible results. Can he work with his worst enemy to fix it?Based on "there's only one bed and we wake up cuddling" request.





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm so sorry this took so long. Basically my life has been a mess for weeks. Furiously job hunting, bad headaches, not sleeping well, and a new medication that gave me some really bad side effects. I could only write about a page a day for a week, which is very low for me, and it became longer than intended. But I finished it! Thanks to Mrs_ZombieOctopus for her endless support and invaluable help. This fic wouldn't exist without her, and I mean that. Now hope you guys like this :)

**Simon**

“Pen,” I yawn, “what are we doing out here?” I’m rubbing my eyes like a toddler. I didn’t sleep well last night, or the night before. (I don’t sleep well any night, really.) But usually I’m taking a shower or in bed by now. But Pen has dragged me outside into the fall chill tonight for some reason.

“To work on ‘all parts make the whole’,” she replies, like it’s totally obvious we should be doing this, even though the drawbridge is closing in twenty minutes.

“Why?”

She looks at me over her glasses. “Do you not remember today in elocution class?”

My faces goes a bit red. I rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t mean to make the vase go all...goopy...”

“I know, Simon,” she sighs. “That’s why you should practice.”

“What’s even the point of this spell?” I grumble.

“To fix things, put them back together and all.”

“Isn’t that what ‘as you were’ is for?”

“‘As you were’ works best for things that have just been broken. This spells is for stuff that’s been really badly broken for awhile. And I’ve got the perfect thing.”

She pulls out a checkered napkin and lays it on a tree stump. A bunch of random shiny silver pieces and hot pink plastic spread out around the fabric. At first I think she brought a bunch of random junk, but despite what a certain vampire thinks, I’m not a total idiot. When I see little black arrows, I realise what it is.

“How long have you been holding on to a bunch of broken watch pieces, Pen?”

“It’s not mine,” she scoffs. “It’s Pacey’s. He stepped on it a year ago and it’s been sitting in his junk drawer ever since. He’s a bloody hoarder, never throws anything out.”

“And you have it because...?”

“Snatched it up at Christmas for practice. Thought it would be for me, but it’s perfect for you. Now,” she points at the broken pieces, “put it back together, Simon”

I chew on my lip and spin my wand. It’s clumsy and slow like everything I do with my wand. I just hope I don’t blow anything up today. I don’t want to hurt Penny. Slowly, I point the already glowing tip of my wand down at the pieces.

 **_“All the parts make the whole!”_ **I say, not with too much magic so I won’t destroy the entire woods. But apparently it isn’t enough to actually, y’know, do the spell. The magic fizzles out like a faulty firecracker. I shake my arm, trying to put more magic out, but nothing. I frown and I feel like a little kid, but I can’t help it. Years later, and it’s still a bit disappointing that I’m such a shite mage.

“Hm,” Penny says thoughtfully, rubbing her chin, “wonder what’s blocking up your power.”

“When is it not blocked up?” I grumble.

“Well, when you go off I guess.”

Dammit, she’s right. Either I explode or nothing happens at all. I slump forward with a pout. Agatha says I slouch too much and it’s going to ruin my posture. Well, that is, she used to. Until we broke up last week. That wound is still a bit raw.

I feel Penny’s arm wrap around mine. She presses her cheek against my shoulder. It’s nice when she does that. It’s nice to know she’s not afraid of me.

“You’ll get it eventually, Si,” she says kindly.

I lean on top of her head. “Thanks, Pen.”

I really am grateful, but fuck, I wish I could believe her.

* * *

 

When I get back to my room, I’m hoping to just toss the napkin sack of watch parts in a corner and go to bed. But of course _he’s_ there, sitting at his desk, doing his homework like some goody two shoes. Acting like he isn’t an evil plotting vampire.

“What’s that Snow?” he asks, grey eyes fixed on the tied up napkin. “Your hobo sack?”

I’ve had a long day, filled with failing at magic classes then failing at Penny’s spell, so I’m far, _far_ too tired to deal with Baz’s bollocks. So I just make a noise at him and stomp towards my bed. He scoffs very loudly.

“Eloquent as ever, I see.”

“Fuck off,” I growl.

“Oh, two words, a Simon Snow rarity. I feel so honoured.”

Though part of me really wants to yell or punch him, I’m too tired to start a fight. Plus the stupid Anathema. And I need a shower. So I just throw the watch pieces into my pile of laundry, snatch up some mostly clean pyjama pants, and my towel. Baz can go eat his stupid homework for all I care.

The shower is really nice. The warm water is really relaxing, making all my tense muscles slowly unwind. I had a really bad nightmare last night. It was a familiar one though. I was back in the care home and I went off, but this time everyone wasn’t safe. They all burned. Because of me. And I had to watch.

I shake the images out of my head, then finish washing up. I’m almost tempted to use some of Baz’s fancy products to treat myself, but he’ll smell it. Stupid rich vampire with his stupid vampire senses. Maybe the day before graduation I’ll swipe some shampoo, just as one last “fuck you” to the guy who’s made my life hell for over seven years. Petty as fuck but effective in my opinion.

I get out before the water turns cold and towel off. My hair doesn’t get fully dry. It never does, it’s so bloody thick. It holds more water than a sponge. I make I’ve got my trousers on before I go outside. Despite living together for so long, Baz and I have never been naked in front of each other. I’m not changing that any time soon.

When I get out, Baz is sitting on his bed, back against the wall, holding a book. It’s some weird nonfiction shit that I can’t even fathom being entertaining. His eyes flick up to me.

“Finally,” he says flatly. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry I kept you waiting, your majesty,” I grumble.

“As you should be. I shouldn’t suffer because the Chosen One needs to get off in the shower.”

My entire face goes tomato red. Holy shit, I cannot believe he just said that. I want to say something mean rude in return, but no words come out as usual. I’m just gaping at Baz like a bright scarlet fish. He just keeps glaring at me, totally unfazed by his implication that I was fucking wanking in the shower with him _right there._

“F-Fuck off,” I say, far too weakly to make any impact, then turn around. Fuck, he might think he’s actually right. He’s not, I’m just too tired and shocked and embarrassed to fight him. I hate that Baz can do this to me. Make me feel even more wordless and stupid than I already feel all the time.

I hang up my towel, toss my clothes in my overflowing hamper, and flop down heavily on my bed. I stare at the blank wall so I don’t have to look at Baz. I hear him get up from his bed and pad his way over to the bathroom then close the door. Like he’s one to complain about taking long in the bathroom. He always spends twenty minutes just washing his stupid perfect face. I close my eyes tight, and try to force myself to sleep. Hopefully the nightmares won’t be too bad tonight.

* * *

 

**Baz**

The second the bathroom door is closed, I allow myself to panic. I press a hand to my erratic heartbeat and take a shaky breath. Merlin, Morgana, and Methuselah, what the everloving fuck is wrong with me?! Why did I say that?! Why did I imply that Snow was wanking in the shower _out loud?!_ Of course I was thinking about it, much to my eternal shame. But then I fucking said it!

I’m usually so much better. I’ve spent years building up my self control, especially when it comes to bloody Snow. I must be far too tired. My nightmares have been waking me up in the middle of the night, then I toss and turn for hours.

(When I’m particularly weak from exhaustion, I stare at Snow. Sometimes watching the slow movement of his chest lulls me back into slumber. It’s just his breathing, the steady, calming rhythm of it, nothing to do with him. At least that’s what I try to tell myself.)

I lean back on the door, thumping my head against it as softly as possible. As if being a vampire wasn’t bad enough, I’m completely disastrous just as a person. I couldn’t at least be a wise or courageous blood sucking monster. No, I’m a pathetic one who lets his unfortunate crush know he thinks about him wanking then goes and panics in the toilet, all because he lost a bit of sleep. The universe is never kind to me.

 _Enough whining, Basil,_ I can almost hear Fiona say, _Pitches don’t mope._ Well, this Pitch does, but she would be right. There’s no point in staying here forever, even though I would like to. I push myself off the door and go to the sink. Snow thinks my nightly routine takes far too long. He doesn’t understand the trials of proper skincare and dental hygiene. (Considering Snow’s sugary diet and the fact that he only spends thirty seconds brushing in the morning, I’m surprised all his perfect teeth haven’t fallen out yet.) (Wonderful lucky idiot.)

Once I’m done, it’s time to re-enter my personal hell, which is always wherever Snow is. I cautiously stick my head out, and to my relief, Snow is asleep. He’s facing the opposite wall, curled up in his usual knot. With my vampire vision, I can see his face in the dark. It’s all twisted up in anguish. Nightmares, again. I wish I could walk over there and somehow kiss all his bad dreams away. Not that he would want me to. Not that I even could. I’m a dark creature designed to kill. Not exactly made to comfort.

I silently walk over to bed. Luckily I was able to feed after supper, so I’ll sleep easy tonight. Well, as easy as I can. I lay down and pull up all my blankets. I take one last glance at Snow’s broad, freckled back, then reluctantly look back at the bland wall. I slip into slumber too, listening to the faint sound of Snow’s breathing.

* * *

 

**Simon**

It’s burning. The White Chapel, the Cloisters, Mummer’s House, everything. I stand completely still on the great field surrounded by fire. All of watford is burning, and it’s all my fault.

“You did this, Simon,” Penny says. She’s suddenly standing right in front of me. She’s not smiling or frowning. Her face is blank. And that’s somehow worse.

“I-I didn’t mean to!” I try to yell, but my voice is so small.

“But you did, Simon.” The Mage is here too now. His arms are crossed over his chest. He looks down on me like he always does.

“It was an accident!”

“Accident or not, it doesn’t matter.” He glares harder, blue eyes like icy daggers. “You should learn to control yourself better.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I sob. Tears are flowing freely down my face. “I-I- I can’t- What do-”

“Use your words, Snow,” Baz hisses, a sneer on his lips. I try to talk, but my voice is completely gone. Baz rolls his eyes. “Truly the worst Chosen One that’s ever been chosen.”

I keep trying and trying to speak but it’s hopeless. I hear a childish giggle, but it sounds wrong. Warped, weird, pure evil. I look up. Sitting on the burning White Chapel is him, and he looks like, tossing my old red ball.

“Looks like you did my job for me,” the Humdrum chirps, “thanks, Simon.”

I scream. But no sound comes out as the fire engulfs me.

* * *

 

I wake up with a gasp. My limbs feel heavy, unable to move. I have to lay there panting, tears streaming down my face, while my body comes back online. It’s a freaky feeling to be frozen like that. But eventually, I’m able to twitch a finger, and sensation slowly creeps through my body. I let out a long sigh and stretch out in a arch. I blink the gum away from my eyes to see faint light. From the looks of it, it’s barely six am. And I feel like absolute shit. It’s like I didn’t sleep at all, again. Fucking hell, today is going to suck, _again._

I get out of bed and accidentally knock into quite a bit of furniture as I stumble to the bathroom. I hear a groan from the lump of blankets that’s supposedly Baz. He hates when I wake him up. Well, I didn’t ask to share a room with his posh vampiric arse, so he can just fucking deal with it.

When I’m done in the bathroom, Baz is already up. He’s rubbing his face up and down, then he glares at me. Are there bags under his eyes? Guess he had nightmares too. We both have them, it kind of sucks.

“Did I take too long again?” I grumble.

Baz scowls. “I thought heroes were supposed to be all compassionate and shit, yet you always wake me up at the ass crack of dawn.”

I scowl right back. “I thought vampires slept in coffins.”

He scoffs, though he looks so tired it loses a bit of impact. “I don’t know about that, Snow, go ask one.”

He grabs his perfectly folded uniform and stands up, knocking my shoulder as he passes. Apparently, my magic decides to flare up in anger at that exact moment, because Baz jolts away with a furious look on his face.

“Control yourself, Chosen One,” he growls. “Crowley, your magic is so useless.”

It’s too early for me to come up with another retort, so I just focus on getting dressed. Baz scoffs unkindly then goes back to the bathroom. Once he’s gone, I allow myself to fall into a bit of self pity. I hate it but he’s right. I’m useless at magic. I’m a terrible mage. I can’t control my power or even cast a bloody spell. And one day, I’m going to burn everything to the ground.

I get dressed as quickly as possible. (Don’t want Baz to see me, duh.) When he comes out, he’s got his hair slicked back and uniform all pristine. He gives me one last sneer, grabs his bookbag, and stomps off. I don’t know where the fuck he’s going. Breakfast isn’t for another half hour. Whatever, as long as he’s not fucking here.

As I’m collecting my school stuff (which is...everywhere), I come across the weird makeshift bag filled with Pacey’s broken watch pieces. Just looking at it makes my blood boil, reminding me of my stupid failure. Baz’s harsh words are still ringing in my ear. Y’know what? Fuck him, the stupid vampire prick. I snatch up the napkin and open it on my bed.

With wand in hand, I stare down at the pieces. I try to focus on the fact that they’re supposed to be together. I point at them as steadily as I can.

 **_“All the parts make the whole,”_ ** I say, and my voice is booming. I feel my power rush down my arm, through my wand, and right into the watch pieces. They start to pull together, going back into place, becoming whole. I smile broadly. It worked! For once, my magic worked! Fuck yes! Take that, _Tyrannus._

Wait, why isn’t it stopping? The watch is fully assembled, but my magic is still flowing out of me in a roaring wave. I try to let go of my wand, but my hand won’t budge. I can’t even move it out of place. What the actual fuck?! I feel the the magic go past the watch and into the mattress beneath. My bed starts glowing gold. The light gets brighter and brighter, but I can’t stop it. Wait, is Baz’s bed glowing too?! I shield my eyes just before there’s a blinding flash of light.

And then, nothing. The whole room is deadly silent.

Slowly, I pull my hand down, blinking the spots from my vision. Once I see what’s happened, my jaw falls open and I drop my wand. Oh shit. Instead of two single beds as far as possible, there’s one double bed, merged together. One side has the sheets kicked down, and the other has a million quilts.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_

I start pacing back and forth, pulling at my hair with one hand and chewing my nails on the other. How the fuck did I do that?! Is my magic getting _that_ insane? More importantly, how the fuck do I fix it? I have no fucking clue.

But I know who might.

* * *

 

**Penelope**

It starts as a totally normal day. For once, there’s nothing exciting or life threatening. It’s a bit of a welcome change, honestly, especially after the terrifying insanity at the end of last term. But when I see Simon running towards me in the dining hall at breakfast, not even stopping to grab a scone, I know something’s up.

“Penny, Penny,” he pants, leaning over me with wide eyes, “I need your help.”

“Is it the Humdrum?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s- it’s just- Come with me, _please.”_

He sounds scared, and incredibly desperate. I get up immediately. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Simon immediately turns and starts jogging. I follow behind him. My mind is racing with what the fuck is going on. What could make Simon panic so much? I would say the Humdrum, (especially after what we found out), but he said it wasn’t that. He wouldn’t lie. So what else? Maybe Baz sneezed on him by accident and Simon now thinks he’s a zombie. That could unfortunately be a possibility.

We climb all the way up to Simon and Baz’s room at the top of Mummer’s House. Luckily everyone is in the dining hall so I don’t get noticed going in. The second Simon throws the door open, I know exactly why he was panicking.

“Crowley,” I gasp.

“Yeah,” he says. “I know.”

I walk up to double bed. It’s obvious what happened. The blankets and sheets are mismatched, as well as weirdly melded together in the middle like two paints that had been mixed on a palette. One side has a bunched up Watford issue grey wool blanket at the bottom, and has a literal mountain of covers. (Three guesses who’s side is who’s.) I walk forward and cautiously touch the middle. It doesn’t feel sewn or melted. It feels like it’s one thing and always has been.

“How did this happen?” I ask.

Simon is pulling at his hair, making it messier than it already is. “I-I was trying that spell again, y’know that one with the watch. And it worked, but then my magic wouldn’t stop, a-and there was a big flash and then...this happened.”

“‘All parts make the whole’ did...this?!” I’m flabbergasted. I’ve never heard of that spell doing anything close to this.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how! There was just all this light and-and I don’t know what to do!”

I rub my forehead, trying to push out the tension in my muscles. “Have you tried any spells?

“N-No. I just went to go get you...”

He looks ashamed. I sigh and pat his arm. That calms him down a bit, but not a lot. “Let me try some separating spells, okay?”

Simon nods. “Okay, thank you.”

I give him one more pat and adjust my ring. “Welcome, Si. Now step back.”

He does as I say. I roll my shoulders sand try to conjure every separation spell in my mind. Considering Simon’s magic, I might need all of them.

 **_“As you were,”_ **I say, forcing in as much power as possible. The magic flows out from my ring, I can feel it, but when it hits the bed, nothing happens. All the energy fizzles out. Fuck, that’s frustrating. I guess this is how Simon feels when his magic decides to not work.

 **_“Break in two!”_ **Once again, nothing.

 **_“Go our separate ways!”_ **Nothing.

 **_“Split it down the middle!”_ **Nada.

 **_“Divide it fifty fifty!”_ **Bupkus!

I sigh and lower my hand. It’s not working. Nothing I do is affecting Simon’s strange, erratic magic. “Nicks and slicks,” I groan. “Those are all the ones I know off the top of my head.”

Simon strumbles past me, then sits heavily on his side of the now double bed with a look of absolute terror. “Baz is going to kill me,” he says, voice shaky. “This is what’s going to make him finally snap and drain all my blood.”

I sit down next to him, putting a hand on his back. “He’s not going to kill you, Si.”

“For this?!” He flails wildly, indicating the Franken-bed I suppose. “Yeah, he fucking would, Pen.”

“Simon, I doubt Baz would-”

“What the absolute fuck is _this,_ Snow!?”

We both look up, and yup, there’s the man himself. Baz’s jaw is firmly on the ground and his eyes are burning more brightly than his fire. I can feel Simon seize up. I don’t blame, even I’m a bit freaked out. Baz is powerful mage and he looks _beyond_ furious.

“Uh, Baz-” Simon starts. “I-I didn’t- It’s not- Uh-”

“Stop stuttering, you numpty, and tell me what the fuck happened!” Baz starts marching towards us, but I stand up before he gets close. I glare at him, a hand on his chest to keep him away from Simon. Surprisingly, and luckily, he stops.

“Baz, it was an accident,” I say firmly.

“An accident?! How did he screw up this royally?!”

Simon stands up, wringing his hands. “I-I was trying a spell! And it went...weird.”

“Weird?” Baz hisses. “‘Weird’ is changing a shirt from white to polka dots. This is a fucking nightmare! You merged our bloody beds together!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I don’t care!”

“Enough!” I shout. “Both of you, calm the fuck down. Baz, it was an accident, so there’s no point in getting angry. Simon, we both know that you didn’t mean to do this, so Baz is not going to hurt you.” I glare at Baz. “Right?”

Baz growls, low and angry, almost animalistic. It makes me almost believe Simon’s insane ramblings about vampirism. Simon doesn’t look reassured at all. I push the two of them further apart. For their safety and mine.

“We can’t fix it right at this moment,” I say. I have to push harder on Baz. “But we can fix it _eventually._ Until then, you two need to be on truce. No fighting, no yelling, and absolutely no killing or attempted killing. Understood?’

“But-” Simon starts.

“No but’s, Si.”

“What about-” Baz starts this time.

“And no what abouts, Basil! Truce, no questions. Both of you understand that?”

They look at each other over my head. (Damn being short.) I don’t have to look up to feel them glaring. The tension is thicker than Simon’s beloved butter and I could cut it with his sword. I feel like an intruder on their constant fighting. Though really, they’re barely noticing my existence.

“Fine,” Baz says from between gritted teeth.

“Fine,” Simon echoes, spitting the words out like they’re sour.

“Good.” I let up some of the pressure on their chests. “Now shake on it and I’ll spell it”

Baz scowls. “Is that really necessary?”

I roll my eyes and look at Simon. “Do you trust Baz?”

“No!” he replies instantly.

I look back at Baz. “And do you trust Simon?” He doesn’t reply, but I already know the answer. “Exactly. Now shake on it.”

Slowly, cautiously, I step out from between them, and thankfully they don’t immediately go for each other’s throats. Simon offers his hand first. Baz looks at him. His lip twitches, but he takes it.

“I promise I won’t harm you,” Baz mutters.

“I promise I won’t harm you either,” Simon says just as reluctantly.

I point my ring at their joined hands. **_“An English man’s word is his bond.”_ **

Their hands glow blueish-purple for a second, the colour of my magic. The spell honestly won’t do much if, maybe make their arms go numb for a few days if they try to throw a punch. But hopefully the threat of punishment is enough to keep these two idiots from throttling each other. I have no clue how they’re going to figure out sleeping arrangements. But that’s their problem. I’m going to have my own issues sorting through spell books.

“There,” I put my hands on my hips, “truce is magically made.”

Baz pulls away like Simon’s touch is burning him. Simon puts his hands in his trouser pockets, looking like a kicked puppy. Poor guy. Of course I believe it was an accident. Simon wouldn’t do this on purpose. He’s probably so embarrassed. I’ll give him a hug later.

“I’ll keep looking for spells,” I say. “Right now, we should get a little breakfast before class, okay?”

“Fine.” Baz snatches up his bag and a notebook from his desk. Guess that’s why he came back. Well, it’s a good thing I was here when he confronted Simon, or the Anathema probably would’ve tossed both these idiots out a window.

Baz storms out. Simon and I follow behind. He’s still all slumped and pouty. I put an arm around his back, and he leans against me a bit. This is all going to be alright. I know it is. It has to be...

* * *

 

**Simon**

I spend the rest of the day on the edge. Sometimes quite literally. I nearly fall out of my chair once from sitting too far on the side and jittering my leg too hard. I try not to think about it, but I can’t. Fuck, what am I going to do? How are we going to sleep tonight? More importantly, what the fuck is Baz going to do to me once Penny isn’t there to protect me? I wonder if the Anathema will actually protect me. I doubt it. It won’t do much if Baz drains all my blood.

Surprisingly, Baz doesn’t try to kill me during class, or even glare at me all the time. He actually pointedly avoids looking at me, focusing on his work and food. Everytime I look up he’s hunched over something. Maybe he’s busy plotting the most gruesome way to kill me. I try to not think about that too hard, for the sake of my sanity.

Unfortunately the day eventually ends. I’m extremely reluctant to go back to my room. Penny apparently can’t let me hide in her closet for the night, which is one of the worst things that has happened in my life. I make sure to drag my feet as much as I can on the way back to Mummer’s. It takes me twenty minutes to ascend the stairs of the tower. I slowly push the door open and poke my head in. I breathe a very long sigh of relief when I hear the shower going. Weird, Baz showers in the mornings, but I’m not complaining. The inevitable fight is put off for at least a bit.

I quickly throw on my pyjama trousers, as well as a shirt for once. I have no clue what the sleeping arrangements are going to be but I feel like I should be fully covered. I cautiously sit on the side that was my bed, making sure I don’t even touch Baz’s side. He would probably smell it. Stupid vampire senses.

Only a few minutes later, Baz emerges from the bathroom, hair slicked back, a cloud of steam behind him. Seriously, could he be anymore of a black and white movie vampire? He’s dressed in his grey silk pyjamas, the ones that match his eyes. Which are currently narrowed at me in contempt.

“What do you think you’re doing, Snow?” he asks bitingly.

I look around, trying to find specifically what I’ve fucked up this time. But it doesn’t seem like I’ve done anything for once. “Um...sitting?”

He crosses his arms. “I am _not_ sleeping on the floor. My back isn’t suffering because of your magical fuck up.”

“Oh,” I squeak. We hadn’t talked, but I guess one of us is sleeping on the floor. That makes sense. Sorta. “W-Why can’t we, like, share? The bed is big enough to fit us both without touching.”

His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open like I just slapped him. I don’t see it as _that_ unreasonable. I mean, I don’t trust him, but the floor doesn’t look comfortable. “Absolutely not,” he hisses. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with you, I’m not sharing a bloody bed.”

I humph, blowing hair out of my face. “Fine. But how am I supposed to sleep? We only have one mattress now...”

He squints, but not in anger this time. It’s the same expression he has during a difficult exam. His grey eyes flit around for a bit before settling on me again. “Did all the blankets meld?”

I stick my hand under the Franken-blanket, and feel a few of Baz’s fleeces. They still seem small. “Uh, no, some are still separate.”

“Good. Take those, gather them up on the floor, sleep on them.”

My jaw falls open. “Seriously?!”

“Yes, seriously. You’re the Chosen One, you can survive sleeping on the floor until we fix your fuck up.”

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I can’t think of anything. Baz just keeps glaring at me. Fuck, I can’t fight back. He’ll take my every word and turn it back on me like always. So I just grumble as I start gathering up some of Baz’s stupid blankets and my pillow, all of which I dump on the floor while scowling at Baz. He looks totally unaffected. Typical.

As I gather up the blankets into a makeshift bed, Baz just gets under the big blanket, gathering it around himself in his typical cocoon. He’s probably going to be shivering all night. Suck it you plotting vampire.

The blankets don’t really work as a proper bed but, well, it’s better than nothing I guess. I sink into my pillow, sleep starting to creep over me. Baz spells the lights off without another word, as usual. He’ll probably sneak off to the catacombs to feed soon. Or maybe bite me. (He better not bite me.)  I’m not comfortable at all. I hope Penny can fix this soon.

* * *

 

**Baz**

I don’t know where I am. It’s just dark, and smokey, and smells of blood. Slowly, I look down at my hands. Red drips from my fingertips. It’s me. I’m the blood smell.

“Basil,” a voice croaks, “why?”

I look down. My mother lays there at my feet. She’s filthy, hands helplessly covering the gushing wound on her neck. Her eyes are wide and confused.

“Mum?” I whisper. It’s been so long since I said that. I’ve always called Daphne “mother.” Only Natasha Grimm-Pitch has ever been called “mum” by me.

“Why are you like this, Basil?” she asks through a sob.

I kneel next to her, bloody hands hovering over her. “I-I didn’t mean to. I never asked to be a vampire.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I don’t want to be!”

“You’re not my son. Not anymore”

“Yes, I am!” I cry out, and suddenly my voice is small. That of a five year old child’s. The age she died.

“Monster,” she chokes out. Then the last gush of blood falls from her skin, and I watch the light die from her grey eyes. I’m reduced to body wracking sobs over her corpse. My tiny, five year old hands can only hold onto her so tight. My sobs become whimpers and groaning and panting breaths.

But, wait, those aren’t my sounds. That’s not my voice.

* * *

 

My eyes slowly blink open in the darkness. At first I think the blood I drank after Snow fell asleep is waking me up to piss. But with my stupid vampire senses, I can see quite well. and I can see Simon Snow. I’ve rolled over to his side of the bed in my sleep. (It smells like him, smoke and sweet things. My unconscious is such an arsehole) He’s no more than a foot away and below me, whimpering and groaning and panting on his floor blankets.

He looks like he always does at night, sleeping in a knot with his face screwed up in pain. But I can see it even clearer now. He’s thrashing quite a lot. Rolling back and forth, fingers flexing, face all pulled together in pain. Fuck, I hate seeing him in pain. And he looks so scared and hurt right now. I want to help him. But he would never, ever want my help.

Snow whimpers pathetically, and I watch tears fall down his cheeks. Shit.

I lean over the side, close to him. “Snow,” I whisper, but there’s no change.

“Snow,” I whisper louder. He twitches but still doesn’t wake up. Shit, he looks to be in even more distress.

“Snow!” No change. In fact, he’s starting to get worse. He’s crying harder. It makes my heart shatter.

I reach down and poke him. “Snow, it’s a bad dream, just wake up.”

He’s panting, crying, and thrashing more. I can’t leave them like this, but I can’t do anything else right? Snow lets out a sob. The sound hits me deep in my undead heart.

Oh, fuck it.

I grab his shoulder and shake him firmly. “Simon!”

His blue eyes fly open with a loud gasp. I pull my hand back immediately. Snow takes deep, shuddering breaths, body completely still. I’ve seen him like this a few times. He can stay frozen for a couple seconds or almost ten minutes. Depends on the nightmare, I suppose. This time, it only takes a minute. I subtly breathe a sigh of relief when I see his shoulders twitch. Slowly, his bleary eyes meet mine. They’re not angry or sad, just confused.

“You called me Simon,” he whispers.

Fuck I hope he doesn’t see the way my face heats up in the dark. What the fuck is wrong with him? I wake him up from a nightmare and his first thought is that I called him by his stupid beautiful first name? What a stupid gorgeous moron.

“No, I didn’t,” I grumble. It’s a blatant lie, but I’m praying to whomever will listen that he’s too sleepy to argue. I then turn back on my side, my back towards him. “Go back to sleep, _Snow.”_

Thankfully, Snow doesn’t keep arguing. From the sound of it, he rolls over too. I will myself back to sleep. I hope I don’t have anymore nightmares tonight. And I hope he doesn’t either.

* * *

 

**Simon**

“Si, that’s the third time you’ve rolled your neck,” Penny says.

“I know,” I grumble. “Bloody floor is so uncomfortable.”

Penny looks up from her huge spellbook. “Have you seriously been sleeping on the for the entire past week?”

“Yeah. Baz won’t let me sleep in the bed. Says he’s not going to fuck up his back because of my fuck up.”

“That’s mean.”

“He _is_ mean.”

“Damn right I am,” Baz says smoothly, before dropping books on the table with a soft thunk. He sits at the head of the table. Figures. Probably thinks he deserves to lord over us. “My spine will not ache because my roommate is an idiot.”

I stick my tongue out at him. Baz rolls his eye. “Extremely mature, Snow.”

I flip him off and look back down at my book. He’s right, it was juvenile, but it’s how I feel. Stupid prick. It really was an accident and now _I_ have a bad back. Like he cares. Though, it hasn’t been all bad. Baz has woken me up from a couple nightmares, including that first night. I wonder why. Maybe he thinks I’ll have worse nightmares when I go back to sleep but I don’t. So, ha, plot ruined in my favour, you stupid posh vampire.

We’ve been doing this every day after tea break, going to the library and researching spells to fix the bed. Luckily we all have the same free period. Sadly, we still haven’t found anything, and I haven’t been able to will it back to normal either. I suggested we ask the Mage for help, but Baz immediately shut that down. He says the Mage will find some way to blame him. I told him he was being paranoid but he was firm. So we’re still here, still researching, and I’m still sleeping on the bloody floor.

“How about this one?” I ask, “‘Parting is such sweet sorrow?’”

Penny reaches for the book, but Baz takes it before she can, scanning over the words with his inquisitive grey eyes.

“Nice try, Snow, but no cigar,” he says smoothly, and I deflate like a forgotten balloon. “This spell is to make someone miss you. It has to do with your emotions. It’s not used for _physically_ separating two items.”

I groan and slump forward, cheek squished on the oak table. At least the wood is cool. It feels nice on my tired skin. “Fucking great. Still nothing.”

“It’s one setback, Snow. don’t get so twisted up.”

“It’s not one,” I grumble, turning my head so I can glare at his calm face. “We’ve had lots of them. Nothing has worked or been good.”

He sighs, probably because he’s frustrated with me. “We’ll find something eventually.”

“For once, Baz is right,” Penny says. She puts a soft hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find something. Don’t give up yet.”

I make a noise of agreement, because honestly I’m too tired for words. But she’s right. We’ll find something. I just need to rest for a second. The damn floor is making me so goddamn tired that I’ve been nearly falling asleep in class for a week. I haven’t been able to get any work done either.

Oh fuck.

I bolt upright so quickly it makes both Baz and Penny jolt. “Test!” I say.

“What?” Penny asks with genuine confusion.

“Test, today, I-I didn’t- I need to but- Fuck, how do I-”

“Words, Snow,” Baz sighs.

I glare at him as hard as I can. “Is our poli sci test last period today!?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. I pull at my hair and weirdly it provides some feeling of comfort. Or maybe I just want to punish myself. “I’ve been so tired and we’ve been doing this all the time so I haven’t studied at all, I’m so fucked!”

Penny runs her hand down my arm.“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Si.”

I groan and hold my face. I know she’s trying to be nice and all, but it feels empty. We both know the height my intellectual capabilities, which probably sit somewhere down in the centre of the fucking Earth. As if my average needed to plummet even more.

Something loudly slaps on the table, making me yelp. The librarian makes a shush noise. I don’t know if she means me or the sound. Right in front of me is a black spiral bound notebook with “Political Science” written on the front in curly lettering. It’s Baz’s handwriting. I tilt my head up at Baz him, who’s looking at his giant volume with zero sign of emotion, as usual.

“What’s this?” I ask.

His eyes flick up while the rest of his face is still. “What’s it look like, Snow? It’s my political science notebook. I promise you my notes are very meticulous.” I’m still staring at him dumbly. He makes a small gesture with his long fingers. “Go on, Snow, at least you can do some last minute revision. Maybe that’ll help somewhat.”

He goes back to the spellbook with no other comment, still looking all neutral and shit. Like this isn’t the weirdest fucking thing to ever happen in my weird as fuck life. I turn to Penny, who is just as wide eyed. Well, it’s good I’m not the only one super fucking confused over this.

“But...why?!” I ask.

“You won’t be much use for spell research if you’re busy bemoaning doing poorly on a test. My frankly stupendous notes might at least put your mind at a bit of ease.”

I trace the leather cover (of course it’s leather) and it doesn’t kill me, so it’s not booby trapped at least. At least not on the cover. I could open it and a cloud of poison could puff out. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” he sighs with annoyance. “Unlike you, I do not stutter. Open the book and revise away.”

Even when he’s trying to be nice (possibly), he’s still a prick. It’s truly a skill, I guess. “Um, are you gonna want it back before lunch?”

He shakes his head, making more wavy black hair fall in his face. “No. I feel perfectly well prepared for the test. Please return it at the end of the day. I assume you’re not petty enough to destroy my political science notebook.”

I look at the notebook, then him, then the notebook, then at still confused Penny, then back at Baz. I move so fast my neck hurts. “Seriously?!”

“Yes,” Baz sighs again, sounding even more annoyed. “Use my bloody notes, Snow. Put your frantic little mind at ease.” He licks the tip of his thumb and flicks over to the next page. I swear he’s doing it for the dramatic effect.  “Maybe you’ll actually do well on a test for once. Merlin, that would be a miracle.”

I want to start shouting at him, but we’re in a library, and he just gave me my notes. It feels wrong to yell when he’s being nice, even if it’s in his own self centred prick way. Well, I guess I can yell some other time. For now, I open up his stupid black notebook.

His handwriting is all loopy and perfect, of course. At least it makes his notes easier to read. And I guess they’re kind of super organized, and well written, and super informative. Fuck, this might actually help me on the test. I know politeness rules say I’m supposed to thank Baz, but like hell I’ll ever do that. So I just keep my head down and revise.

* * *

 

When I get back to my room, I’m so knackered I go past Baz without notice and flop down on my blanket nest.

“And a good evening to you too, Snow,” Baz says. It almost sounds teasing, in his weird deadpan way. I grunt in response. “How did the test go for you? You were still writing when I left.”

I lift my head up and look over my shoulder. Baz is sitting at his desk, back to me. I can’t see his face, so I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not. “Are you seriously asking or taking the piss?”

He chuckles, and it doesn’t sound _that_ sadistic for once. Weird. “You decide. Take a wild stab.”

Well, that’s cryptic as fuck. I still can’t see his face and therefore decide if I’m being mocked. Usually he’s mocking me. But, he gave me his notes. Maybe he wants to know if his “frankly stupendous notes” were effective. He would, the posh prick. I shouldn’t give him any satisfaction. But...he did give me his notes...

“It was alright,” I say. “Not great but not horrific either.”

“Did the notes help at all?”

Yeah, there it is. He wants to feel self important, the prick. “How much do you want me to stroke your ego?”

“The truth is adequate, Snow.” His voice is totally flat, not one hint of sadistic amusement. I don’t know how to interpret that. I’m used to knowing Baz so well, but recently he keeps surprising me. This truce is weird, but sorta nice, I guess. It’s better than him being an evil prick 24/7.

“They, uh, helped a bit,” I say with hesitant honesty. “I couldn’t hold onto all of it so quickly, duh. But some of it stuck, enough of it. Maybe I will pass.”

“Good. Glad they helped a little.”

His tone is so emotionless I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. He might be making fun of me. But I don’t think I’m in immediate danger from him right now (for once), and I’m too tired to decipher him right now.

“Uh, yeah...” I get out of the blanket nest then grab my pajamas and bath towel. “I’m gonna, um, take a shower.”

Baz dismissively waves at me. “Have a wonderful trip.”

Okay, that was sarcastic as fuck. But...it’s kind of funny. I have to stifle my giggle and smile. I’m not fucking smiling because of Baz, never ever. Even if he’s funny. I go into the bathroom just to be sure he doesn’t hear or see any wayward positive response from me. He’s acting alright, but I’m still not sure why. Whether this is a plot or...just being nice because we’re on a truce. Can Baz be nice? Christ, this is so confusing.

* * *

 

**Baz**

I wake up because of Simon’s panicked breathing again. I’ve gotten so attuned to them it seems my body won’t let me ignore him. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see him rolling him around, face all scrunched up in pain. I put my hands over my sensitive ears, trying to ignore him again. I always do, because I know he doesn’t want my help. But I can’t leave him like that. Just like I couldn’t leave him panicking about his test a few days ago. Stupid love, it makes me so damn stupid sometimes.

I reach down and shake him awake. It only takes a few placed shoves for his plain blue eyes fly open. My hand flies away immediately. Slowly, Simon focuses on me. His perfect pink lips fall open slightly, and I have to will my heartbeat to slow down.

“Baz?” he whispers, voice confused and soft. How I wish he always sounded so soft talking to me.

“Yes, who else?” I sigh, rolling over and away. “Go back to sleep, Snow.”

I do hope he listens to me for once, but alas, the Chosen One doesn’t listen to any of his bloody supporting characters. He tosses and turns, grunts and grumbles. Every one of his sounds is keeping me up. Eventually, I’ve had enough.

“Snow,” I hiss, “would you please keep it down?”

He grunts at me, like that’s a normal human response. “Can’t sleep.”

“You’ve fallen asleep before after I’ve woken you up, so do it again.”

“...don’t wanna.”

My eyes fly open. He sounds like a defiant child, which is normal, but there’s a weird edge to it. I roll over, but only get a view of Snow’s broad back, not his face. However, from the way he’s curled in on himself, I can tell it’s not good.

“You don’t want to?” I try to keep my voice as calm as possible, so he doesn’t yell at me for being a condescending prick. I want to make sure he’s okay without him thinking I want to make sure, like I tried to when he came back after the test. It’s so exhausting pretending I don’t adore him.

“Bad dreams,” he grumbles. And unfortunately that’s a sensical answer.

I lean up slightly, cheek cradled on my palm. “You’re scared of the big bad nightmares, Chosen One?”

Snow growls, muscles tensing up. “Fuck off, you don’t get it.”

I scoff, half annoyed and half insulted. “Where have you been for the past seven years, Snow? I have nightmares too. Have all my life, just like you.”

That makes him uncurl slightly. Maybe he’s feeling a bit guilty, and I’m not sure how much I want that. I don’t like him feeling bad, even though he was being a bit of a prat. “They’re probably not the same...”

“Try me.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Fuck, that was dumb. Like he wants to talk to _me_ about his nightmares. I expect him to ignore me at best and snap at me at worst. What I absolutely don’t expect, not in my wildest imagination, is for him to start actually speaking.

“Stuff burns most of the time,” he mumbles. “Sometimes it’s Watford, or the group home, or...everything. It’s all on fire. Because I went off and destroyed everything. Everything is gone and everyone is dead because of me. _That’s_ what I dream about all the time, Baz. Happy?”

 _Not at all,_ I want to say. I don't wish to see him in pain, not ever. Unfortunately, it makes sense. Snow’s magic is a terrifying force of nature, like a hurricane. And hurricanes always destroy. But I wish he wouldn’t think like that. I want to reassure him, but I can’t let him know I care so much.

"Sounds bad," I say as nonchalantly as I can. "But it won't ever actually happen, y'know."

He whips around with a scowl, but I think I see a deep pain in his gaze. "How the fuck could you know that?! You're the one who's always calling me a useless mage who just blows up!"

I flinch slightly. He's right. I'm the last person who should be helping him. But who else is going to right now? It's just us. I have to, because I can’t leave him alone.

“I say that to get a rise out of you,” I sigh. “Yes, your magic can be uncontrollable sometimes, but we both know you’re too much of a golden hero to actually destroy everything. You hate harming innocents. I still remember the way you blubbered in the bathroom after killing that dragon in first year. You wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to and you would still hate yourself for it.”

(I almost say “and when you finally kill me, you’ll still feel terrible,” but that’s a very different conversation for another time.)

His pretty mouth drops further open for a moment, but before I can properly admire it, he gets all scrunched up in confusion. “But I could go off by accident...”

I sigh heavily. “Isn’t Bunce constantly glued to your side?” He nods slowly. “Exactly. She would calm you down before you would go Chernobyl on Watford, correct?”

Snow nods again, and he gets the parted lip shocked look again. “Uh, yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“Of course I do. You won’t destroy everything, Snow, it’s just stupid anxiety. Now,” I roll over, mostly so he can’t see the way my face might be heating up, “please go to sleep. And stop tossing and turning so much so I may sleep as well.”

He makes a weird grunt noise. After a bit of rustling, he goes still. Huh, for once he actually listened to me. That’s good. I know he would never do any of that, because he’s too selfless and clever. But he wouldn’t believe me if I said it. I wish he would. And I wish his dreams were happier.

* * *

 

**Penelope**

When Simon sits beside me in the common room on Saturday, I immediately notice something’s different with him. Simon’s always energetic, sure, but he also tends to bags under his eyes, because of the nightmares keeping him up. (I wish I could take those away for him.) By the end of the day, he’s always looks one bad gust of wind away from toppling over. But today there’s not even a hint of dark circles there.

“Hi Pen,” he chirps, a big smile on his face.

“Hey Si,” I reply. “Just wondering, are you feeling okay?”

He frowns a bit in a confused way. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“You look better than usual. Sleeping better?”

“Actually yeah. Floor still sucks, but I’ve been having a few less nightmares. Baz wakes me up from them sometimes.”

My eyes bulge out. I feel like a bloody Looney Tunes character. “Baz wakes you up from nightmares?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Um...why?” I’m so beyond confused right now.

“He says I make too much noise when I thrash about and it wakes him up so he wants to get me to stop.” His eyes narrow, and he leans closer to whisper. “I think he’s trying to make me have worse nightmares, actually. But it’s not working, cause I don’t have any nightmares after I wake up once.”

Simon looks very pleased at this. I mean, he might have a point, but Basilton is unfortunately incredibly brilliant. If he wanted to give Simon worse nightmares there are so many effective ways to do it. And it seems like it’s not effective at all. So why the hell does Baz keep doing it?

“I’ve got three new books,” Baz announces as he swans in with absolutely zero warning. I knew he was coming today but he’s so silent. We need to put a damn bell on him. “Let’s see what they have.”

He sits across from us and shoves two large spellbooks at us. I easily take it, while Simon is a bit more cautious. At least I think he’s being cautious. But when I look to the side, he’s just pouting. Not even in angry way, just annoyed.

“What’s with the long face, Snow?” Baz asks.

“It’s nearly lunch,” Simon almost whines. “This is why I wanted to meet later. I wanna eat, not research.”

Baz sighs heavily. I expect him to tell Simon to grow up. But instead he takes a large glass container from his book bag. It’s filled with sandwhiches and a few scones. Simon’s eyes go wide. I swear his mouth is watering.

“There.” He shoves the container at Simon. “Have my lunch, since you can’t seem to think without stuffing food in your mouth.”

“Um, you sure you don’t want any?” Simon asks, though he’s already ripped the lid off and fishing out a roast beef sandwich.

Baz waves dismissively. “I’m fine. Eat away.”

Simon doesn’t need another word. He starts scarfing down the sandwich. I expect Baz to make some comment about him eating like a pig, but he just sighs and keeps reading. He keeps defying my expectations today. What is going on with him? Better question, what’s going on with Simon? Why is he so unsurprised?

After polishing off three sandwiches (why did Baz get so many?) and beginning on a scone, Simon starts his reading. He’s pretty damn focused, eyes narrowed and nodding thoughtfully. Usually he’s half falling asleep because he’s so tired and bored. I guess he really is sleeping better. And...it’s because of Baz? Really?

Simon finishes off all the food with a lick of his fingers. Baz very dramatically rolls his eyes at him. Okay, so he’s not _that_ different than normal. Simon starts rummaging around in his blazer pocket, then slides a half eaten mint aero bar across the table. Baz’s eyes flick up to it with absolutely no change in his expression.

“Are you expecting me to throw out your garbage, Snow?” he asks flatly.

Simon rolls his eyes in an almost perfect imitation of me, or maybe of Baz. “No, arsehole. I ate all your lunch, so you can have the rest of my mint aero. And don’t say you don’t like them, cause I know you steal from my stash when I’m not around.”

Baz narrows his eyes until they’re grey slits. He’s going to call Simon a numpty and storm away from the table, I know it. But _again_ he does exactly what I don’t assume. He snatches up the chocolate and puts in his own blazer. Simon smiles smugly as he goes back to his book. Baz glares at him one more time, then looks back at his own readings. Sure, they’re not friendly, but they’re not screaming or beating the shit out of each other. It’s so weird.

Maybe I need to start expecting the unexpected.

* * *

 

**Simon**

I wake up in the middle of the night with a gasp, but for once it’s not from my nightmare or Baz shaking me. It’s from weird noises coming from the bed above me. Panting, groaning, maybe even whimpering. Wait...is that Baz?

I bolt upright. Baz is laying on his side in the middle of the bed, curled in on himself. His sharp face is lit up by pale moonlight. I can see all the muscles clench up. It’s the same expression I see when I punch Baz during a fight. He’s in pain. Oh shit, he’s having a really bad nightmare.

Without thinking, I grab his shoulder and shake him hard. Maybe a bit too hard, because Baz wakes up with a giant gasp and flails around like he’s been attacked. His hands land on my forearms, nails digging into my skin like bear claws, as if he’s trying to hang onto me. Baz looks at me with huge eyes and incredibly shaky breaths. If it were anyone else, I’d say he was scared.

“You...you okay?” I ask.

I watch his face change completely in an instant. All that fear flies away and is quickly replaced with his usual boredom. No sign of anything feeling, anything human.

“I’m fine, Snow,” he says. “Get off me.”

“Then let go,” I reply, looking at where he’s still hold on to me. And when I look up again, I swear there’s some embarrassed flushing on his face. Guess he snuck off to feed after I fell asleep again. His hands quickly off me like I’m a toxic swamp creature, then he rolls over, leaving me to stare at his back. I lean my cheek on my palm.

“You wanna talk about it?” Honestly, I’m legitimately curious what could make strong, cold Baz so terrified. And maybe a tiny part of me wants to help, like he helped me.

“No,” he snaps. Of course.  I blow air out my lips in annoyance. “Stop it with the horse impression, Snow, I’m trying to sleep.”

“I told you about my shit. Why can’t you tell me about yours too?”

He cranes his head over his shoulder, glare illuminated just enough for me to see it. “Why the fuck should I?”

“Dunno. Maybe I could help.”

_“You?”_

The way he says that hits me right in gut. It’s been awhile since I let Baz get to me, but he’s sorta been okay these last three weeks. Him being a bastard again feels like whiplash on a nice scenic drive. I humph and flop back down on my nest.

“Goodnight, Baz,” I snap. I squeeze my eyes shut, clutching a quilt around me. Fucking Baz. Of course he’s still a prick. He always will be.

“It’s about my mother,” Baz says, and my eyes fly open. “I usually see her dying in front of me, in many different ways. And no matter what, I can’t save her. Again.”

Holy shit. My heart is beating against my ribcage. I know I asked, but I cannot believe he’s actually saying something. Slowly, I turn on my side. Baz laying on his back, hands linked over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He kind of looks like a vampire in his coffin. I bite my tongue before saying that.

“Oh,” I squeak. “That’s uh...that’s bad...”

Baz scoffs loudly. “No shit, Snow.”

“Yeah...sorry. And, I’m sorry about your mum. She died when you were really young, right?”

“Yes. I was five.”

I sit up, mouth falling open, while he doesn’t react at all. “You were only five? Shit Baz, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity, Snow,” he spits like venom.

“It’s not pity!” I kneel, arms folded on top of the bed. “I’m not pitying, Baz, I-I just mean that’s really horrible. I’m sorry you went through that.” Baz doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t yell at me either. That’s a victory, I guess. “You...you said you couldn’t save her again.”

“Yes. Good to know you’re not deaf.” It takes all my self control to not say something mean back. Because I want to help him, because he helped me.

“Do you, uh, mean like you can’t save her in every dream? Or like, you couldn’t save her when she actually died?”

Something odd about Baz is that his most important movements are the smallest. He’s so subtle in everything he does. A twitch can say so much. And I see the way his lips purse slightly and fingers curl up. I hope he’s thinking, not about to curse me in some horrific way.

“The Humdrum’s vampires,” he says slowly, measuring his words, “attacked the nursery, where I was. My mother came to save me. If she hadn’t, she would have lived. She died because of me. And I relive that horrible feeling almost every damn night. _That’s_ what I mean.”

Never in my life did I ever think my heart would break for Baz fucking Pitch. But it really is right now. I live not knowing who my parents even were, but Baz lives thinking his mum died because of him. That has got to be horrible.

“I’m sorry, Baz.” He scowls again, probably about to cuss me out. “I mean, like that’s really bad. And if it makes you feel any better, I, uh, I don’t think it’s your fault your mum died.”

“Oh?” he says like he assumes what I’m going to say is stupid. I hope I don’t.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like you asked for the Humdrum to send vampires. No one could’ve predicted that. And Headmistress Grimm-Pitch was your mum, so of course she wanted to save her son. That’s not bad. And...you were only a kid, Baz. You couldn’t have cast a healing spell or something back then. It just, it wasn’t your fault. It sucks your dreams aren’t getting that...” I look down at the sheet, fiddling with my fingers. “I-I didn’t know your mum, Baz, but I don’t think she’d want you to feel bad about being, y’know, being alive and all...since she wanted you to live...”

I’m not sure I said the right thing. I didn’t say anything about him being a vampire at least, so hey, that’s a plus. But I’m still not sure. Cautiously, I lift my head. Baz isn’t moving at all. He’s a perfect statue frozen on the bed, like one of those medieval coffins. (Or maybe I’m just thinking of that one in Indiana Jones.) Fuck, maybe I said the wrong thing, I do that a lot. We stay in frozen silence for a long while, me kneeling, him being a medieval coffin statue.

I realise he’s not gonna talk anytime soon. So I slowly push off the bed and lower back into my blanket pile. Christ and Crowley, it’s uncomfortable down here.

“Y’know, sleeping here is like sleeping on fuzzy rocks,” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood at least a bit. It feels like there’s a damn black cloud in here.

Baz lets out a long sigh, the first sound he’s made in what feels like forever. There’s a rustling, then he speaks. “Get the fuck up here, Snow.”

What the fuck? I sit up and peer over the side of the bed. He’s moved to the other side, what would be hid bed if they weren’t melded together. So there’s a big spot open for me. “What?”

“You heard me, Snow. You can sleep here.”

“Uh...this isn’t a plot to like...bite me or something, right?”

He scoffs and I’m pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes. “No, Snow. If I was a vampire, which I’m not, there are much easier ways to get your butter clogged blood. Now get up here, before I change my mind.”

I gape for another few seconds, then my brain comes back online. I slowly stand up, waiting for him to curse me or sink his fangs into my neck. But it doesn’t happen. I get on top of the blanket, since I never really sleep under them. It feels nice to be on a mattress after weeks on the floor. I feel exhaustion wash over me immediately. But before I drift off, I have to say something.

“Um, thank you, Baz,” I whisper. The words feel strange on my tongue, but not too bad.

“Go to sleep, Snow,” he replies. And I swear I hear a small “thank you” under his breath, but I’m so close to sleep I can’t tell. I drift off, and I feel alright.

* * *

 

**Baz**

My dreams aren’t terrible for once.

It’s odd. I’m so used to feeling utter terror in every bone in my body. But this time, I simply feel warm, calm. I’m standing in an infinite field. There’s no sign of my dead mother telling me what a monster I am, no feeling of guilt that she’s dead or dying. I’m just, okay.

Something warm is on my hand. I look down, and there are tawny, freckled fingers weaved between mine. My eyes follow up a strong arm, to a broad shoulder, and finally land on a set of blue and a mess of bronze curls. He smiles at me, and it’s so bright, it’s like staring into the sun. And I simply smile back.

* * *

 

I wake up slowly, with no gasp or sudden start. I suppose this is how normal people wake up in the mornings. All my muscles slowly come back to life, the sunlight dances on my eyelids, and there’s a smile on my face. What’s that weight on my side? As my eyes come back into focus, I see my arm is stretched out. And there’s something on top of it. Something with tawny skins and a constellation of freckles and moles.

All the breath leaves my lungs.

I stay very, very still. I cannot have him wake up when we’re like...this. Simon is completely curled around me. One leg between mine, his chest pressed to my back, arm draped over me, and hot breaths caressing my neck (mouth breather.) This is closest we’ve ever been in my entire life. Thank magic itself there’s still a blanket between us or I would probably fucking explode.

Simon hums in his sleep, the vibrations radiating down my spine. His arm gives me a light squeeze. I have to suppress a shudder. Though I can’t help but lightly squeeze his beautifully callused hand. I love the way his skin scratches on mine. Part of me knows I need to wake him up, that he’s going to hate this. But another, weaker part of me desperately doesn’t want to him to let go. I want to stay in his arms for eternity, bask in his heat, burn to death in his fire. Crowley, I just want so much, and it’s terrible. Because there is no way I can ever truly have this.

It’s easy to tell when Snow wakes up. Almost all his muscles are touching mine right now. They come awake along with the rest of him. I slam my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep even when I’ve never felt more awake and alive. I can feel the moment Snow notices. His entire body locks up like he’s been hit with a stun spell, which inadvertently pulls me closer. I’m allowed to revel in that for one second, maybe two, before he scrambles away from me, and I’m my cold self again.

He sits still on the bed for a solid minute, breathing heavily, probably beyond horrified he woke up spooning his worst enemy. I can’t blame him, even though I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he liked it as much as I did. The mattress dips as Simon gets off the bed. I listen to him fumble around, probably quickly throwing on his clothes. Once the door closes, I finally open my eyes. I reach back. The spot next to me is still warm. I roll over and press my nose into the sheets. Smoke and sugar, Simon Snow.

I am so fucked.

* * *

 

**Simon**

I’m not sure where I’m going. I’m just...walking. Walking away from my thoughts, my fears, my weird as fuck feelings. I need to do that more than anything. Eventually, my feet start to hurt, and I have to stop. I duck into an alcove near the second floor showers. It’s too early for anyone to be up, so at least I can be alone right now. I sink down to the ground, sitting with my back to the wall. I chew on my shaky fingers and rock slightly back and forth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual _fuck!?_ I swear to God that I was on the other side of the bed when I fell asleep. So how the hell did I end up draped all over Baz? Why didn’t I notice or move away? And...why didn’t I have nightmares?

I’m serious, I didn’t have a single one. I didn’t even see anything. I just felt warm and happy. It’s been years since any of my dreams have been anywhere close to that good. I can barely remember a time when I wasn’t plagued with fears. Was that really because I was sleeping next to Baz? Or more accurately on Baz?

But I hate him! He’s a snob, and a bully, and a fucking vampire! A dark creature that could snap my neck and drain my blood. Though, he hasn’t really been that bad these past few weeks. Sure, he’s still a prick, but he’s helped me out. I’ve helped him as well, I guess. And I’ve realised he’s not some unfeeling monster, he’s got fears and problems too. He hasn’t hurt or killed me, even though he’s had plenty of opportunities to. So I guess he’s really not _that_ bad...

No, no. What the fuck is wrong with me? Baz is evil, second only to the Humdrum. We’re not mates or...cuddle buddies (those words make me cringe), we’re enemies. I need to get away from him, reset my brain, get back on track.

* * *

 

**Baz**

I’m not sure what happened. Ever since the terrible, wonderful morning over a week ago, Snow has been ice cold to me. (No pun intended.) He’s not even antagonizing me like he used to, just giving me the silent treatment. I ask him a question, he shrugs. I make some joke that even Bunce finds amusing, he’s stoned face. I make snide remarks about his clothing or reading abilities, he says absolutely nothing. Somehow, this is even worse than when he hated me. At least then Snow was some part of my life. Now, I feel invisible to him. It stings in a very unique way. To have him so close, then pull so far away.

“I’m still for ‘parting the red sea,” I say.

Bunce shakes her head, almost dislodging her glasses. “That spell is way too powerful for a pair of beds.”

“Snow’s magic is unique. We might need something powerful.”

“Fine, if you want to try it. But I’m not going to be there when you split the entire tower in half.”

“Ye of little faith, Bunce.” I turn to Simon. He’s got his nose in a book, but he’s been on the same page for ten minutes, so I don’t think he’s actually reading. “What do you think, Snow? Is it time to resort to going biblical on our beds?”

He shrugs, no change in his face whatsoever. I have to stifle my disappointment, not show any of my pain. I clear my throat and look back down.

“Well, suppose we’ll leave that on the table,” I say, thankfully with no catch in my voice.

We spend another hour looking at books. Simon barely moves, barely does anything except exist. I wish if he was mad at me he would just say so. It would be better than this unending silence. Eventually, we head to the dining hall. Bunce and Snow go to their table, far away from me, and I sit with Dev and Niall.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I say.

“Hello, stranger,” Dev says. “Where have you been?

Niall makes an odd huffing noise. “Yeah. You’ve barely been around lately.”

“Studying. Finals are coming up, and I need to beat Bunce for top of the class.”

“So you’re that stupid you need to study a ton?”

I glare at Niall, who has a giant shit eating grin. “I could turn you into a toad.”

“Would love to see that,” Dev snorts. “Say, the Chosen One isn’t glaring at you today. Has he finally given up on you?”

I glance at the table. Snow is saying something to Bunce, a small smile on his face. He’s laughing at something she’s saying. He looks at least a little happy. Well, seems he can warm, just not around me. It’s expected but still, it hurts.

“So it appears,” I say. “Maybe he’ll finally do something useful with his life.”

Dev and Niall chuckle, both returning to their food. I hope they don’t notice the forlorn look on my face. For a small shining moment, there was a chance Snow and I could at least be friends. But it seems to be truly hopeless after all.

* * *

 

**Simon**

It’s all darkness. Just endless, merciless, black. I’m floating in it like a fish in water with no aim in sight.

“Hello?” I shout, and my voice echoes forever. No one answers. “Hello?! Is there anyone else here?”

“Everyone’s gone, Simon.” A disembodied voice says. It’s an odd mix of people I know. The Mage, Penny, Agatha, Baz, all my group home social workers, even The Humdrum. But when I look around, there’s still nobody there

“What do you mean gone?”

“You’re alone,” the mixed voice replies. “You have always been alone.”

I shake my head forcefully. “No no _no,_ I can’t be! There are people, t-they care!”

“Do they?”

The world spins in front of me, and I honestly wonder if I took something. Suddenly, I’m six years old, sitting on my dirty bed at a group home. There’s no other kids around, all of them outside playing without me. Later I learned my magic repelled them, but back then I was sure they just hated me. Instead of playing, I’m looking up at a social worker. I don’t remember her name, but I remember her deep scowl.

“Why did you break the toy, Simon?!” she shouts.

I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t find the words. At this age, I could never find the words. I was always completely silent, like a sad little statue instead of a real kid.

“Answer me!” she screeches.

I try and try but I can’t. She makes a noise of frustration, and turns away with a wave of her hand. I curl up in a ball, sniffling pathetically. I rock back and forth on my bed. But then it vanishes under me.

I fall and fall, until my feet heavily hit the ground. I’m eleven, standing on the great lawn. A straw dummy sits a few feet away. It blazes bright with a huge fire. My wand is in my right hand, but my left is the one that’s smoking.

“Really, Simon?” the Mage says from behind me. “You cannot even do one simple fire spell properly? I’ve told you to study.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” I say, voice smaller than a mouse.

“Sorry counts for little, boy. You have to do better, especially since you’re my heir now. I won’t have you reflect badly on me.”

My head hangs low, a few tears falling down my face. “I’ll do better next time...”

“Doubtful. Come along, back to your room. We’ll try again later.”

I hear him turn, but when I turn to follow, everything ripples like a stone hitting the water _._ Now I’m eighteen, standing on the ramparts. Agatha is wearing her white nightgown, pale blonde hair blowing softly in the wind. Her arms around herself as she looks off into the distance.

“I can’t do this anymore, Simon,” she says. “I want to be someone’s right now, not their happily ever after.”

“Aggie, please.” My voice breaks with...I don’t know. Sadness? Desperation? Loneliness? I don’t want her to go. She’s my endgame. My happy ending. I can’t lose her.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye”

She turns and walks away. I chase after her. I try to touch her arm, but she turns into mist and blows away on.

The ramparts disappear under me and I fall into oblivion once again. Eventually, I land on something hard, sitting upright. I’m in the dining hall. Penny is across from me with a big smile on her face.

“Chicago was so pretty in the summer,” she says almost wistfully. “I can’t wait to go see Micah again.”

There’s a tug in my stomach. I’m happy for her, but...she’s going to America. It’s only for the summer now, but one day it’ll be forever. One day she’ll leave and I’ll stay here. I’ll be all alone.

“That’s great, Pen,” I reply, hiding the strain in my voice.

She smiles harder, and everything warps around her mouth. Then it’s not Penny I’m looking at, and it’s not her kind smile anymore. It’s Baz’s sadistic grin. His arms are crossed over his chest. There’s that smug glint in his eye. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him this cruel. I forgot how horrible it was.

“Poor little Chosen One,” he drawls. “Everyone leaves you, don’t they? Maybe you’re just too pathetic for everyone to deal with. Me included.”

“Fuck you!” I scream.

“Very eloquent. I really do feel sorry for you.” He looks at his perfect hands with nonchalance, grin melting into a simple smug smirk. “That’s the only reason I helped you, really. Because you’re so useless you can’t fix your own terrible magic, and I like watching you suffer.”

Furious tears fall down my face. My hands are heating up, but I’m too angry to stop them. Baz just keeps smirking at me, unaffected by my pain.

“You’ll be alone when you die too,” a very familiar voice chirps. “Just you wait.”

I turn around. He’s bouncing the red ball up and down with his goofy yet terrifying grin. His face, _my_ face, is totally uncaring. He doesn’t care about my anguish either. “You’ll burn yourself out trying to kill me, y’know.”

“No!” I sob. My skin is prickly with heat all over. I feel like a log at the bottom of a bonfire, simmering with embers.

“Saying things doesn’t make them less true.” The Humdrum bounces his ball and tilts his head to the side. “You’re alone. Just like me.”

I go from hot to burning. I’m on fire, but he doesn’t care. No one cares. I’m alone, just like he says. I fall to my knees, staring at my glowing hands, tears evaporating on impact. I feel the fire consume my body. And I let it, preparing to explode outward. That’s all I’m good for, blowing up. A sad, lonely bomb.

“Snow,” a distant voice calls, but I can barely hear over the roaring in my ears. “Snow! _Simon,_ wake up.” It’s getting louder. What’s on my shoulder? “Simon, for the love of Crowley, please just wake up!” Something’s on both my arm. It feels like...hands. _“Wake up!”_

* * *

 

**Baz**

Simon’s eyes fly open with a huge gasp. The sparking golden energy is still radiating off his body, but I keep gripping his arms. I’m not letting him go. Whatever kind of dream he was having it must’ve been particularly terrible. So he’s not going to be alone right now.

His breathing is shallow and strained. I watch as his eyes look down at his glowing skin, then widen with terror. He starts full on hyperventilating, body shaking like a leaf. It only makes the magic grow stronger, shining brighter than the midday sun as it crawls up his arms. No, no, you idiot, that’s the opposite of what you need to do right now! Crowley, I wish Bunce was here. Unfortunately, it’s just me. I’ll have to do my best.

I’m leaning over the edge of the bed. Snow is still laying down. I pull him up to his knees so we’re almost face to face.

“Snow, look up,” I hiss. His eyes still move frantically. Fucking hell. I grab his tear stained cheeks, forcing his head up. _“Simon,_ look at me.”

Finally, he looks me in the eye. I’ve never seen him so afraid. Not in front of the chimera, not facing down a dragon, not when he’s fighting me. He looks closer to the frightened little eleven year old I met all those years ago. But I’m not going to treat him the same way I did back then.

“Simon,” I say firmly “we need to calm you down.”

“I-I...I can’t,” he chokes out, new tears falling down his face.

“Yes, you can. Look at me, and take deep breaths, okay?”

He shakes his head frantically. “I can’t, I can’t-”

“Stop it, Simon, and look at me.” I use one hand to move his to my chest and the other to hold his shoulder, gripping him tight. “Do as I do. Follow my movements. Understand?”

He still looks panicked but nods. “O-Okay.”

“Good. Now, breathe in,” I take a deep inhale, and he takes a more shallow one, “one, two, three. Now out,” I breathe out slowly, and he follows, “one, two, three. And again. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. You try counting, okay?”

Snow presses a bit harder on my chest, free hand digging into my other arm. “I-In, one, two, t-three. Out, o-one, two, three.”

His breathing is getting more steady, and the glow is starting to dim slightly. I nod and hold his hand tighter. “Yes, good job, Simon. Keep going.”

He closes his eyes, and we keep breathing together. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two three. Over and over and over, until the room becomes dark again and there aren’t as many tears falling down Simon’s cheeks. He keeps his eyes shut, but not as tightly. His hands are still gripping my arm though. He won’t let up. And when I tentatively try to let go, his nails dig harder into my skin.

“Don’t let go,” he pleads. “Please. I-I don’t wanna start going off again.”

I nod slowly. “Okay. But we can’t sleep like this, Snow.”

We’re frozen for a moment. I wait for him to say or do something. Sure, I know what I want, but I highly doubt it’s what he wants too. Then to my utter shock, Snow pulls himself up by my arms and into the bed, throwing the blanket over himself. Even more shocking, he presses his body close to mine. His strong arms embrace me tightly, face pushed into my chest, eyes still closed. The warmth from his body makes me gasp. But I’m so completely stunned that I’m frozen in place.

“Is this okay?” Simon asks.

Crowley, I wish he could understand how okay this is. How I’d let him hold me for a hundred, even a thousand years. As long as he needs. But I settle with simply nodding.

“It’s okay with me,” I whisper. Cautiously, I place a hand on his side, and when he doesn’t shove me away, I touch his back. “Is this okay with you?” He nods slowly. “You’re...you’re not scared?” He’s always been scared of me, and he’s already had a horrific night. I don’t want him to be more afraid.

He shakes his head against my chest. “No, not scared anymore” He yawns and bunches my shirt in his hands for a second. “You make the nightmares go away.”

Before I have a chance to ask for an explanation for that sentiment, Snow is already fast asleep . His light snores brush against my chest like a summer breeze. My mind is racing with so many questions. But Simon is sleeping softly, right here in my arms, beautifully at peace after nearly going off from a nightmare. My questions can wait.

I lean my head down, nose pressing into his scalp. He smells like smoke and cinnamon rolls, something I would gladly eat. But I won’t hurt him, I never would. I just hold him, and drift off with his warmth surrounding my body and sweet scent in my nose.

* * *

 

**Simon**

For the second time in over a week, I don’t have a nightmare. I dream of light and warmth again. But this time, the warmth starts to take form. It molds and twists into a tall silhouette with a lean frame. His hair becomes thick and wavy, smile small and reluctant, and eyes a deep sea grey. Looking at him makes me feel safe.

Baz.

* * *

 

I wake up slowly. No gasping, no going off. It’s odd but...nice. As my eyes slowly open, my vision is filed with bright red. Something is wrapped around me, holding me close. Something that smells of cedar and bergamot. Wait...

Carefully, I push myself back slightly. I inhale sharply. Holy fuck. The red I saw was Baz’s silk pyjama shirt. His arms are around me, and mine are around him. I slept pressed against his chest. He slept with his face in my hair. We’re all tangled up together like the vines that cover the weeping tower. Bit by bit, the memories of last night start coming back to me. The nightmare, nearly going off, Baz calming me down, crawling up into the bed with him. Fucking hell, I held him, and he let me. In fact, he held me back. Baz has been nicer lately but this is on a whole different level.

I stare at Baz’s sleeping face. He looks so peaceful. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, not a single sign of his usual tension or animosity. Is this how Baz is supposed to look? Without the evilness or perpetual look of boredom? Without all of his defenses up? I kind of like it better. I like _him_ better.

Baz starts to stir, and I stay very, very still. I don’t want to scare him away. But when his vision focuses on me, he doesn’t seem scared. He’s more shocked than anything, and that shifts to completely awestruck, eyes getting bigger than dinner plates. It’s like he’s experiencing a bloody miracle. Huh. I never thought anyone, let alone Baz, would look at me like I’m a miracle.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Um, hello,” he says. I can feel his arm slowly start to move off my side. “Sorry, I’ll go-”

“No, no.” I pull him back, pressing his hand against my back again. “Don’t go. Stay.”

He looks shocked again, thin lips slightly parted. I’m so close I can see a tiny bit of red spread across his face. “Okay...”

“What, you nervous?” I chuckle.

“No,” he says with a pout. “Just...confused. I always thought you were afraid of me.”

“I was, when I thought you were going drain me dry or turn me into a zombie. But the last few days have been properly educational, haven’t they?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” I bunch up his shirt. It’s soft in my hands. “I’ve learned a lot about you. Apparently it’s possible for you not to be a cold villain.”

He snorts. “Gee, thank you.”

I sigh and pull him even closer. I swear his blush is getting worse. “I mean, I’ve realised you’re not actually evil. Sure, you’re a snob and a bully.” He frowns, and it’s kind of adorable. “But you can be really nice in your own way. You can actually act like a real human being with feelings and shit. And I like you like that, Baz.”

His eyes are so wide, so full of wonder. “You...you like me?”

“When you’re not a total pompous git, yeah.” I look right in his grey eyes. “Do, uh, do you like me? Or is this all just a truce thing? I mean, I’d get it, I-”

“Simon,” he sighs, and moves his hand up to my cheek. Baz’s hand are cool, bordering on cold. But it feels comforting. I immediately relax. “Stop stuttering, you numpty. Yes, I like you. Crowley, you don’t even know how much I like you, how long I have.”

It’s my turn to be wide eyed and shocked. For a second I think he’s winding me up, but I don’t see any sign of his usual cruelty or boredom. He’s wide open, no defenses. It’s...incredible. “Really?”

“Yes.” He carefully tucks a strand hair behind my ear, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But I don’t. Because it feels good. “Really.”

I’m pretty sure my face is bright scarlet. I’ve never felt so, cherished? Is that the right word? Does Baz cherish me? Baz’s eyes flick down to my mouth. It’s so fast I barely notice it, but I’m glad I do. He’s thinking about that, he has to be. And surprisingly, I think I’m thinking about that too.

“Simon,” Baz whispers.

And I kiss him.

 

**Baz**

Mother of Merlin, he’s kissing me. Simon Snow is in my bed, in my arms, kissing me, his pathetic vampire roommate. His mouth is hot and kind of rough. It scratches as it presses against my own. But it still feels good. Anything he could do to me would feel good. He could stab me through the chest and set me on fire and it would be the greatest ecstasy. But he’s not doing any of that. He’s kissing me. And finally, I kiss him back.

Our lips slide together into a proper kiss. (At least what I assume one is.) Snow grips my shirt tightly, trying to pull me closer even though we’re already lined up head to toe. I move a hand up and around the nape of his neck, weaving my fingers in those bronze curls I’ve admired since we were twelve. They’re so soft. I clench my fist, and Simon groans into my mouth. Crowley, I always want to hear and feel that sound. I want to know every sound he makes when he kisses.

I don’t know how long we spend snogging in my bed. (Our bed?) Frankly, I don’t care at all. Time stretches into a meaningless void far beyond my concern. I try to match his movements at first, but quickly I realise I have absolutely no clue what the fuck I’m doing, so I let him take the lead. It’s a good decision. Simon starts doing something with his chin that makes all my thoughts disappear. And when he sucks on my bottom lip, I swear I’m falling through the mattress into the centre of the Earth.

But sadly we can’t stay here for eternity. Bit by bit, we slow down, and our mouths carefully separate. Our faces stay close. His eyes slowly blink open. They’re glazed over and half lidded. I swear I could get lost in that plain blue. Neither of us let go. Once the haze clears a bit from my mind, there’s one question I have.

“Why?” I whisper.

“You mean, why did I just kiss you?” he asks, equally hushed.

“Yes.”

He shrugs, though a shrug really does not seem sufficient right now. “I don’t know. Guess I wanted to.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Since when?”

He shrugs again, and I sigh and roll my eyes. Merlin, why must half of Simon’s sentences just be shrugs? His hand slowly moves down my shoulder and across my arm, leaving a trail of fiery sensation in his wake. My undead heart is so thumping wildly I’m worried my ribs will break.

“Did you want me to?” Snow looks genuinely worried he’s something wrong. Beautiful idiot, if only he knew just how right he was.

“Must you ask, Snow?” I say mockingly.

Snow’s face falls, getting even more anxious. He starts to pull away. His grip loosens on my shirt. Bollocks, this isn’t what I wanted. I squeeze the back of his neck, silently telling him he doesn’t have to move an inch.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I wanted you to. I’ve wanted you to for a long time.”

To my utter excitement, his sunshine smile comes back. It melts all the ice in my blood. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you absolutely gorgeous nightmare.”

He chuckles, forehead falling against mine. “That’s the funny thing,” he giggles quietly. “When I sleep next to you, I don’t have any nightmares. I...I don’t know why, but it’s happened twice now so, yeah, it’s gotta be a real thing.”

And I thought the kiss completely destroyed me. Now I’m pretty sure I’m in pieces on the floor. “What a coincidence, I don’t have any nightmares either.”

Simon lets out a breath, and I think he’s relieved. “You know, I think I like this. I like this better than fighting.”

“Me too,” I say past the lump in my throat, because I also know reality. “But there’s the Mage and my family and-”

I’m suddenly silenced by Simon’s mouth pushing against mine. I gasp, overwhelmed by the sensations. But before I know he’s pulling away again, far away enough to look me in the face. “Let’s not think about all that right now.”

I scoff. “Not think about our lives? That’s your solution?”

“Yeah, at least for now.” He smiles, small and kind, with big round hopeful eyes. “Just want it to be nothing but you and me for a bit, yeah?”

Merlin and Morgana, he’s so infuriatingly sweet. I want us too, despite I know we can’t really have it. But...maybe for now, we can pretend. “Okay.”

The word is barely out of my mouth before Simon is kissing me again, and I am absolutely sure I’ve gone to heaven. He pushes hard, and I push back. I’m still new to kissing, but I’m top of my class for a reason. I quickly figure out how to move my lips, how to use my tongue, and even that Simon groans when I pull on his hair slightly That’s the greatest thing I’ve never known.

It seems we’re both psychic, because we have the exact same thought at the same time. He rolls over as I tug on his shirt. Simon holds himself up on all fours above me, still snogging the semi life out of my undead body. Every once in awhile, he makes me reach up for his mouth. And I do. I would again. I’d cross every line for him.

I’m in love with him.

And he likes this better than fighting.

 

**Simon**

Penny thinks I solve everything with my sword. But it seems I can solve stuff with my mouth too. I don’t know how long Baz and I spend kissing. Could be minutes, hours, days. All I know is that it feels really fucking good. It’s all so weird. I _like_ Baz, in a way that involves nice words and snogging. And he likes me in the exact same way. And somehow I feel better than I have in years.

As I’m running my fingers through his hair (it’s just as soft as I thought), I start to wonder if this, snogging Baz, means I’m gay. I don’t know. All I know is that I like the way he sighs against my my mouth. I focus on that instead of everything else.

Baz is just scratching his nails across my scalp in this dastardly perfect way when the door swings open with a loud crash.

“Boys!” Penny yells. “I’ve been up all night, and I think I found-”

Baz shoves me off him very quickly. I yelp as I hit the mattress so hard I bounce. Penny is standing no more than five feet away from us, giant spellbook in hand, eyes wide behind her glasses. I briefly consider making some kind of excuse, but there’s no use. Both Baz and I probably look well snogged. And she just walked in on me hovering right over him in _bed._ There’s no stuttering my way out of this.

“Hi, Pen,” I say weakly. “What, uh, what spell did you find?”

She gives me a “really?” expression over her glasses. “Are we just going to ignore this, Simon?”

I glance at Baz, who is looking down and blushing _very_ hard. I didn’t know his pale face could be so red.

“Um...” I’m at more of a loss for words than usual.

“I need to shower,” Baz says quickly. He throws off the covers, grabs his toiletries and clothes, and moves so fast to the bathroom I swear he teleports. I’m left alone with Penny, who still looks very confused and inquisitive at the same time. I’m still trying to smile, but she doesn’t look convinced at all.

“Now are we gonna talk about it?” she asks.

I open my mouth, but no words come out at all. I have no words because I don’t know how to explain this. Thankfully, my stomach growls very loudly. I jump out of bed towards my dresser.

“I need breakfast!” I say a bit too loudly. “Let’s uh, talk over breakfast. I really want scones.”

Penny looks annoyed for a second, but sighs and shakes her head. “Fine.”

She turns around so I can get dressed. I throw on my shirt and trousers haphazardly. (Weekend meals don’t require full uniforms, thankfully.) The second I’m dressed, I start speed walking out the door. Penny follows, book tucked under her arm. I really am hungry, but I also need to get away from the room right now. I need to not think about Baz in the shower right now. After this morning, I can’t think about him looking...like that.

“We’re actually gonna talk,” Penny says, “right, Si?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, Pen, yeah we will.”

 

**Baz**

I lean against the door, hand over my still rapid heartbeat. Not sure if that’s from Bunce catching us or Snow’s snogging. Snow’s rough, warm lips, tearing me apart in the best way possible...

I shake the thoughts from my head. Crowley, I need the world’s coldest shower.

* * *

 

**Penelope**

They’re a few feet apart. Simon is sitting on his desk, and Baz is leaning against his own. It’s usual they stay far away, but it’s extremely deliberate right now. I don’t know why they feel the need. I know everything. Simon explained it all at breakfast. Though he did say it in a hushed tone in the far corner of the room. I guess he was nervous about the Mage or the Old Families catching wind that their two heirs were snogging. Can’t blame him. But we’re in their own room now. So why both Simon and Baz are looking at the floor like embarrassed school boys is beyond me.

“Oh, would you idiots stop it?” I sigh. “There’s no need to at all distant and shit, I already know you’re are snogging.”

“Only because you barged in,” Baz grumbles.

I roll my eyes as dramatically as possible. “Yeah, sorry for bringing you the solution to your bed problem. Though now I’m wonder if it’s a problem at all for you boys.”

They both blush even more furiously. Crowley, they are such disasters. I never expected these two to resolve their rivalry this way, but it kind of makes sense in a weir way. Simon has always been obsessed Baz. At least he’s channeling all that energy into something more positive now, I guess. I’m not sure how it’s going to work though. But that’s up to them to figure out.

I open the book to my marked page, and look over my shoulder. “You sure you want me to separate the beds?”

“Yes,” they both say immediately.

"Mage might barge in sometime," Simon mumbles.

"The Families have ears everywhere," Baz says, drumming his fingers on his arm, "can't risk them catching wind either."

Both their eyes flick up and meet across the room. Simon smiles soft, just tugging at the corner of his lips. And surprisingly, Baz smiles back in the exact same way, if only for a moment. Huh. Weird, but kind of sweet.

I turn back to bed, point my ring out, then speak the spell. **_“Parting of the ways!”_ **

I put as much magic behind the words as I can. They vibrate through the air and hit the bed. For a second, nothing happens, and I’m worried it's not going to work. But slowly the bed starts to glow deep purple. A violet line of light goes right down the middle. They separate like someone tearing apart a wad of gum, big gooey strands slowly stretching. It’s fucking strange, and kind of cool. They warp and shift in they’re rubbery, gummy way. We watch the beds move to each side of the room. The second their in their proper place, the gooey strands snap and shoot back into the bed with a very odd “boing.” The beds wobble like gelatin for a second, then settle down. It’s completely silent for a few long seconds.

“Well,” Baz finally says, “that was interesting.”

“No shit,” Simon chuckles.

I just sigh with relief. Finally, this is all done. I can get back to studying (and beating Baz for top of the class). I turn back to the two idiots, and bloody hell, they’re fucking gazing at each other like star crossed lovers. Both their eyes are round and sad. Well, my work is done, but they’ve still have a lot to sort through.

“I’m going to do my revision,” I proclaim. “You coming down later, Si?”

Simon finally snaps out of his sad lovesick trance. “Oh, uh, yeah Pen, see ya.”

I give him one last hug before I go, giving him a squeeze of reassurance. “Bye, Si.”

He squeezes me back, thankfully. I hope he’ll be alright. We slowly separate, and Simon flashes his bright grin before he fully lets go. I know I have to go, and I do walk out the door, but part of me wants to stay. Baz better not break his heart, or I’ll bloody well break him.

 

**Simon**

Baz and I stare at each other for awhile. Unmoving, unsure, both obviously feeling awkward as all fuck. I honestly don’t know what to do. There are so many things I want to say but the words get all tangled up in my brain. What do you say to the bloke you’ve hated for years then snogged this morning after cuddling the night before? Well, I want to say, _“let’s not think about this and snog again.”_ But from the pensive look on Baz’s face, I think he wants to do something more talk-y than that.

“Let’s sit down,” Baz says, immediately striding over to his bed.

“O-Okay.” I scramble to follow him. We sit down on the mattress together. Baz is all straight backed and proper looking, wearing his shirt and pressed trousers with his hair slicked back. I remember how he looked this morning, messy and open. I liked the way his hair fell in front of his face in a lazy wave. I want to see that again. So badly.

“So,” he starts, weaving his fingers together on his lap, “how shall we proceed?”

I blow air out my lips. Fucking hell, is he really gonna be like that? “Seriously, Baz?”

“Seriously what?”

“Are you actually gonna act that posh and shit after everything?”

“I don’t see why not.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a little frown. His frown really is adorable. Why have I never noticed that before?

“Because now there’s, well, this.” I wildly gesture between us, because that’s honestly all I can think to do.

His eyes narrow slightly. “What’s this, Snow?”

“This!” I gesture even more wildly, probably a little bit insane. “This between us. And I like this, I like _you._ Don’t pretend like nothing happened and make me think I’m crazy, because we both did and said shit.”

I watch all the muscles in his body sort of shift around, but he doesn’t move anywhere. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to get closer or further away. I wish it was closer.

“I know we...proclaimed things,” Baz says very carefully, “but there’s still realities we must deal with. We’re on opposing sides of on an oncoming war. We’ve tried to kill each other more times than I can count. This truce doesn’t change the fact that we hate each other.”

“But I don’t hate you.” I move a bit closer, and thankfully, he doesn’t move away. “At least, I don’t anymore. And...you don’t hate me either, right?”

His bored expression finally cracks slightly. Just a downturn of his lips and minute widening of his eyes. He looks down at the floor, fiddling with his long fingers. “No,” he whispers. “No, I don’t. I haven’t for a long time.”

That makes something warm pool in my stomach. “Exactly. So why do we have to keep pretending we do?”

“Because we’re _supposed_ to, Snow.”

“Fuck supposed to!” I put a hand on his knee. He looks surprised but doesn’t flinch. “Look, I know you think we’re doomed, Romeo and Juliet style.”

“Completely,” he says to the floor.

“And if past experience is any clue, I’m not that great at being a boyfriend.”

He scoffs. His cheeks are only a little red. Guess he’s low on blood. “Duly noted.”

“But,” I put both hands on his knees, “I still want to make this work. Because doing this, being nice to each other and helping and...the kissing, has been good. I’ve liked it better. So why not give it a shot?”

“And The Old Families? The Mage? What of them?”

I nervously rub the back of my neck. “Well, uh, I was thinking if we stopped the Humdrum, maybe everyone would see we can work together.”

He rolls his eyes very sarcastically. “And the whole world of mages will hold hands and sing a song about cooperation.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, maybe something like that.” I put my hand over his. It’s soft and smooth, it feels good. “At least we can try, right?”

Baz’s thin lips purse in thought. I wish the brilliant moron would just not overthink for a second. “There’s so much we have to figure out.”

“We can do it. I’m strong, you’re smart, we can make it work.”

“There’s so much in our way.” His arms lower into his lap.

“I like a challenge.” I properly grab his hand, and he holds it back.

“There’s so much you don’t know, Snow...”

He looks ready for a blow, like something is going to smash him in the face. I shift so we’re pressed against each other. “Well, what I do know, Baz, is that you helped me find a spell, talked me through the nightmares, calmed me down from going off, and make my bad dreams go away. That’s pretty damn good.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so articulate in my life. It’s because I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. Baz doesn’t look as sure, but I think he wants this too.

“Do you honestly think there’s a chance?” he says quietly. He sounds so vulnerable, nothing like the arsehole I thought he was.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I move so our faces are close together. “But I wanna try. Do you?”

We’re so close. Not as close as this morning, but it still feels good. My nerves feel on fire in the best way. It’s not like going off, when I’m out of control and terrified. It feels more like just being excited and alive. Usually I’m nervous too, but not right now. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.

Baz reaches forward. His hand hovers in the space between us. Like he’s waiting for me to push him away. I’m not going to. I don’t want to ever again. “Simon,” he sighs, “if we’re going to do this, you have to know, I’m...” he gulps audibly, “I’m a v-”

“Vampire,” I finish for him. “Yeah, I know. I’ve known for years, remember?”

He pulls back, looking very worried. “And, you’re seriously okay with that?”

I shrug. “Well, it’s weird, but I was only scared that you were gonna hurt me. If the past few weeks are any clue, I don’t think you’re gonna. You don’t hurt people, right?”

“Never,” he practically spits. “I’m not a murderer.”

“Yeah, exactly. Pretty sure only rats have anything to fear you.”

“And...you don’t think I’m...dead or something?”

I shake my head. “Nah. You’d be pretty lively for a corpse.” He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. I play with a piece of his hair that’s fallen out of place. “That doesn’t change how I feel and what I think. I still want this. I want to be your boyfriend. Your terrible boyfriend. As long as you do too.”

Baz looks at me with a soft smile. I like when he’s soft. He looks better. “You’re an idiot,” he sighs. I frown in confusion. “But you can certainly have...this if you want.”

I do.

I grab his face and kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad. Baz inhales sharply through his nose and puts his hands on my chest. For a second I’m worried he’s going to push me off. But instead he grips it tight, pulling me closer. I happily wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips move almost perfectly in sync. I feel like I’m burning in the best way. I never want to leave this room, this bed, Baz’s arms, any of it. The rest of the magical world can fuck off right now.

We eventually fall down on my bed, still kissing, laying on our sides. When we pull apart, our noses still brush together. We’re both grinning like idiots. I couldn’t be happier.

* * *

 

**Baz**

I swear to Crowley these past 24 hours have given me whiplash. First Snow sleeps in arms, then he kisses me, then he asks to be my boyfriend. He cares for me, and he doesn’t mind that I’m a vampire. Simon Snow isn’t afraid of me anymore.

I’m living a charmed life.

I’m laying in bed, pretending to read, when Snow comes out of the shower. He’s wearing his trackie bottoms, no shirt, and drying his hair. I try not to watch the drops of water falling down his chest _too_ closely. We may be...boyfriends now (that word still feels so amazing and odd to me) but I don’t know what he’s comfortable with yet. His damp curls fall adorably in his smiling face. My cheeks heat up. Dammit. I went to feed while he was in the shower, and now I’m paying the price. Snow grins back at me. Well, maybe it isn’t so bad.

“You already fed?” he asks while putting away his clothes and towel. It’s so weird to be asking about it so casually. My biggest secret, just a part of small talk.

I clear my throat and look back down. “Yes,” I reply.

“Good, good. What’cha reading?

“Homework.” I don’t mention it’s homework for next term. No need to rub it in his face anymore.

He flops down heavily on his bed. “Interesting?”

“Yes. Not sure you would like it though.”

“Probably not.” He stretches and arches his back like a comfortable cat. I try not to ogle his muscles too much. “I like fairytales and stuff.”

“Hm, my family library has an original Brothers Grimm fairytale collection.”

He gasps and sits upright. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah. They’re distant relatives on my father’s German side. I’ve read it a few times. It’s quite an impressive volume.”

“Cool! Maybe you can show it to me sometime.”

I lower my book into my lap. I won’t lie, the idea of Simon coming to my home, seeing the library, meeting my little siblings, maybe even staying in my room, is exhilarating. Though I know it’s impossible. I look to the side. Simon is grinning ear to ear. He’s so positive, even after everything he’s lived and still suffers through today. It’s incredible. _He’s_ incredible. And his smile is infectious, so I smile too.

Snow lets out a big yawn and falls back onto the bed. “Ugh, I’m tired. Think these last few weeks of worrying have taken a lot out of me.”

“I’m the same,” I sigh, putting my book on the bedside table. “Though you also did study with Bunce all afternoon. How was that?”

“Alright. I’m really behind for finals, what with all the research. Sorry I had to leave after lunch.”

“It’s fine, Snow. We don’t have to be joined at the hip.” In reality, it was probably a good thing he left for the afternoon. I needed to lay down and collect myself for a good few hours. Part of my brain is still exploding. And it explodes even more when Snow reaches across the gap in our beds, hand lightly touching mine.

“You called me Simon before,” he giggles. My immediate instinct is to refuse, be mean, call him a moron. But...I don’t have to pretend anymore do I? I flip my hand and weave our fingers together. His heat shoots up my nerves.

“We don’t have to be joined at the hip, _Simon,”_ I say with a small smile, hoping he can tell I’m joking. From his grin, I think he does. I squeeze his hand lightly. “We should go to bed. We actually have school tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “stupid school.” I expect him just to let go. But instead, he rolls on his side, brings our hands between us, and kisses the back of mine. Now my entire body feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible. “Goodnight, Baz.”

I smile wider and sigh. “Goodnight, Simon.”

We gaze at each other like lovesick idiots for another few seconds. Then I magic the lights off and we both roll over. I pull my blankets up, and try not to compare their inadequate warmth to Simon’s. I remember his arms around me, and mine around his. How can I miss something so badly I’ve only had once? Though it was so incredible that one time. I want to feel his warmth again. I want him to make my nightmares melt away.

“Hey, Baz?” Simon whispers. “You still awake?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “It’s only been a minute.”

“Oh right. Um, I know this is weird, and the other times were an accident and helping me with the nightmare. And I’m not having a nightmare yet, of course. And I know the beds aren’t very big apart. But um, maybe I could- Or you could- Or we could figure something-”

“Simon.” He stops stuttering, thankfully. I pull my blankets and shuffle closer to the wall, leaving a space open for him. Maybe not a lot, but it’s enough. “Just get over here.”

I don’t I’ve ever heard him move so fast before. He scrambles out of bed and practically throws himself on mine. I even bounce off the mattress slightly.

“Sorry,” he whispers as he snuggles closer. “Night.”

He throws an arm over my side, pressing his hand to my chest. I put my hand on his. Simon’s breaths even out against my neck. Once again, he’s a long line of heat around me. I feel warm, safe, happy. All thoughts of magic and wars fall away from my mind. None of that matters, not while he’s holding me.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling of Simon Snow holding me close. I don’t think I’m going to have any nightmares tonight. Or anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't do a lot of canon divergence, so this was fun. Sorry if it felt too meandering. I did my best to fix that but there was only so much I could do. Idk. I still liked it. Hope you peeps did too :)
> 
> I'm slowly working my way through the requests, but I'm starting my new job next week so it may be a bit of a wait for the next one. See y'all again hopefully soon :D


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